Strive Through Darkness
by Convenient Alias
Summary: AU. The Agni Kai leaves Zuko blind as well as scarred. Will he be able to regain his honor while trying to cope with as well as hide his blindness?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I'm only going to say this once, so read carefully. I don't own Avatar the Last Airbender in any way, shape or form. That's all, folks.

* * *

Zuko woke up to pain and darkness.

His face, he remembered. His father…Heat… "You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher…" The fire had been a wave of heat and light and energy, the same kind he always controlled from day to day, only this time it hadn't been under his control, and it had devoured him.

His face…He reached up to touch it, touch his eye, where it hurt the most. But his left eye was covered by some kind of bandage, and he couldn't touch it. It was probably good. This way, he couldn't aggravate the injury further.

It wasn't just his eye that hurt. His whole body ached, really, even though it hadn't been burned. Vaguely, he realized that he must have been sick for some time after the Agni Kai. He had hazy memories of feverish heat and pain, a splitting headache beyond anything he'd ever known, sickness in his stomach, and his uncle's comforting voice in his ears.

He couldn't remember much else. Even the Agni Kai he remembered like a dream. If it weren't for the pain and the bandage over his eye, he'd dismiss it as such. But he couldn't dismiss it like this. His father had fought an Agni Kai with him and burned his face pretty much off.

He stroked the bandage again.

Father had his reasons. He was just trying to make Zuko strong after Zuko had failed him in the Agni Kai. Zuko knew he deserved the punishment, he was so weak. His father wanted a son willing to face him in Agni Kai and really fight. Even now, Zuko could not bring himself to imagine striking his father. What a failure he was.

He turned over in bed uncomfortably.

It was not his bed. His blankets were softer, and the mattress was more firm. Which begged the question, where was he?

It was still totally dark. His left eye was covered with the bandages and even if he strained his right eye, he could not see even a hint of light. Clues to his location…well, he clearly was not in his own room.

There was a rocking that he had originally ignored, thinking it to be part of his sickness, but now that he thought about it; it seemed reminiscent of a ship at sea. He sniffed a little. Sea smell, too. Great. He was on a ship. Why? Zuko certainly didn't know.

Enough of passive observing. It was time to shed a little light on the situation.

He was wary of violent firebending, which might set the ship on fire (and that was the only reason he would avoid violent firebending, of course) but he thought it would be safe to ignite just a small flame, one he could hold in the palm of his hand. Easily contained, hurting no one. He twitched his fingers slightly and felt the warmth of a flame in his hand.

But there was no light.

Frowning, he brought his hand closer to his face. He could feel the warmth of the flame in the rest of his body now, and on his face, and he could even smell a little smoke. But…no light…

Panicking, Zuko started breathing faster. The flame grew suddenly hotter in his hand (was it flickering? He couldn't see it, so how would he know?) and instinctively he put it out, curling his hand into a fist. He panted desperately, straining his right eye in the darkness. Light, light, there had to be light somewhere.

He forced his breathing to slow. Weak. He was weak. His father had said so, and his father was always right, and here was the proof. A strong man, a brave man, would not allow himself to be worried by a little thing like darkness.

He tried to light a flame in his hand again. There, again, was the same outflow of energy he always felt when he bent, the same comforting heat in his palm, and the same wafting aroma of smoke. And still darkness.

He put the flame out and groaned.

Where even was he?

It occurred to him that if he was on a ship, there had to be other people on it as well. He would call one. They could tell him where he was, and perhaps they could get him a drink. He felt so very thirsty, and so tired, and so hot, and so sick.

"Hello?" he called out. "Hello…"

His voice was raspy and weak. Water, he needed water. Usually he could yell at three times this volume, probably more. Right now, his voice probably wouldn't carry more than a few feet.

It was only upon realizing this, that no one could hear him when he called out, that he was struck with a desperate, overwhelming desire to call for help.

How stupid, he thought, taking a sharp breath in. Help? He didn't need help. A drink of water, maybe, but that was all. He was going to be fine. Someone would have to come in sooner or later. No, he wouldn't even wait for someone to come. He could just get up now, and find someone, and they would explain what was going on and he wouldn't have to feel so very confused.

Breathe in, breathe out.

He felt the edge of the bed and fumbled over towards it. The first step was getting his feet out and on the floor, but the blankets on his legs were so heavy. No. He was the prince of the Fire Nation. There was no way he was going to let a blanket defeat him. He was so, so weak, and so stupid. But he was learning. See? He could move the blankets. He feebly pushed them aside. And now he would just get his feet on the floor, and then he would stand, and then he would walk, and then he would be just fine.

In the darkness he could not see how far down the floor was, so he had to lower his feet carefully until they hit the floor. There it was. He planted his feet as firmly as he could from lying down and pushed himself into a seated position.

Stand, Zuko. You're a prince, you're a warrior. Stand.

Silly Zuzu, too weak to even stand on his own two feet.

At the thought of what Azula would have said, Zuko would have snarled if his throat hadn't been so sore and weak. Always weak. He was strong enough to stand, of course. He forced himself onto his feet.

Oh.

He should start walking now, and find someone, but it was so dark. He was in a room no doubt, but where was the door? There was no crack, no sliver of light to guide him. He didn't even have a wall to inch along. Standing here in utter darkness, he felt as though he existed in a vacuum. Maybe there were no walls, and no door, and maybe even the bed didn't exist anymore.

He put his hand down and touched it. Smooth sheets and pillows. Reality check.

He put his hands in front of him, intending to feel his way to the door or at least a wall to walk along. He lifted his foot to step forward.

The ship suddenly moved under him, and he found himself falling, falling. If only he could see something to catch to halt his descent. But maybe there was nothing.

He ended up on the floor. If he reached up, he could touch the bottom of the bed. Stupid. He was right back where he started, except a bit more uncomfortable, and his head hurt from smacking it on the wood floor.

He tried to stand up again, but he felt just too sick.

What if there was no one of the ship? What if he just ended up lying here, on the ground, in pain and darkness forever?

Stupid Zuko. Princes weren't afraid.

Besides, he was sure there were people on the ship. If he lay still and listened carefully, he could hear sounds from outside his room (he was sure it was a room): the thump-thump of footsteps, and voices calling out to each other. He couldn't hear much through the walls and his own sickness, but enough that he was certain there were people out there.

He couldn't stand. He couldn't walk. He would have to wait.

Zuko hated waiting.

To pass time, he tried to distinguish between voices and words to figure out what was going on outside his room. To maybe pick up a clue or two as to what ship he was on and why. He was a prince of the Fire Nation, and he was injured. Why wasn't he in the Fire Nation palace to be treated, or at least in a hospital nearby?

He didn't want to think about it, or really to think about the Agni Kai or his injury at all. But what else did he have to think about? He couldn't think about his father without thinking of his injury, or about his uncle without wondering where his uncle was or about Mai without missing her. And Azula was an unpleasant subject to think about altogether.

Instead, he tried to think his way through the first firebending form, a neutral enough thought, only he had such a headache that he kept on losing track of things like the position of his feet or the angle of a punch.

The first thing to break into his thoughts was the sound of a door opening only a few feet away from him. Instantly Zuko opened his eyes as widely as possible. Still no light. Maybe it was the middle of the night, and there was no light anywhere on the ship for some reason.

More importantly, who had opened the door?

"Hello?" he croaked.

"Zuko! Are you all right?"

It was his uncle's voice. Reassuring and worried at the same time, bustling and peaceful. Zuko sighed. If Iroh was there, then things were probably fine.

Footsteps came towards him, and then he heard Iroh kneel down next to him. "When did you wake up? You were feverish and half asleep for three days." His uncle's hand came to rest on his forehead. It was warm. "Your fever has broken. Good. But you're still ill, nephew. Please don't try to walk yet."

Iroh's arms closed in around him and he was lifted gently back onto the bed. There was a rustling and soon the blankets were over him again. And now he was exactly back where he'd started when he first woke up. Only his uncle was there, so that was an improvement.

"Where are we?" he muttered.

"One of my ships," Iroh said. Which was not nearly enough information, but still reassuring. All in all, Zuko would probably rather be on a ship with his uncle than in the royal palace as things were. Azula would have taunted him past endurance.

Still, "Why are we here? Why aren't we home?" he asked.

Somewhere in the darkness, Iroh was still and silent. Zuko only knew he was still there because he could hear his breathing and feel the warmth of his body standing next to the bed. A firebender, he was very aware of heat.

Abruptly, Iroh said, "Your father has done something very foolish."

Zuko frowned (even though Iroh probably could not see it in the blackness). His father never did anything foolish. Iroh probably was misunderstanding something again. "Tell me what he did that you think was foolish," he demanded.

"Well for one thing," his uncle said. "He burned his own son's face." His voice was gritty, choked, barely restrained.

"That was to teach me a lesson," Zuko explained. "I didn't know my place. I spoke out of turn in the meeting, and I failed him in the Agni Kai."

"The Agni Kai should never have happened," Iroh said in the same strange tone.

Zuko closed his eyes. They weren't doing any good open, anyways, seeing anything was impossible with no light. "I told you, he had his reasons."

Iroh sighed heavily. "My nephew, he has done something else as well. It may be hard for you to accept."

"I can accept my father's will." He always had before, and he always would.

"You have been banished. As of two days ago, if you return to the Fire Nation you will be killed or captured immediately."

There was a pause. Silence, emptiness. Emptiness in Zuko's mind, too. He didn't know what to say to such a thing. Why would his father banish him? But surely he must have had a good reason. Surely.

"Ozai says it is to teach you respect," Iroh said flatly. "He said you can't be his heir if you don't understand the necessity of sacrifices, and that as you are, you are too weak. He said you dishonored yourself." Another pause. That made sense. "He has also said that you can return if you capture the Avatar and bring him back to the Fire Nation."

Of course. His father had left him a way to regain his honor. Or course he would. All Zuko had to do was capture the Avatar, and his father would trust him again, and he could go home. Things would be as they used to be. Zuko wouldn't have to feel ashamed anymore. Already he felt a thrill of hope rising in his chest. His father trusted him, and he wanted him back. Otherwise he would never have left Zuko a method to return.

"Sounds fine," Zuko muttered. "So, how do I capture the Avatar?"

Silence for a moment. Then, Iroh's hand on his shoulder, a comforting weight. "Nephew, it may very well be an impossible task. The Avatar has not been seen in a hundred years, and he is a very powerful bender."

"I know," Zuko said. That much was common knowledge. Everyone in all Four Nations knew that. "But Father expects me to do it. And I must regain my honor."

The hand on his shoulder tightened its hold, and Iroh sighed aloud. "If you wish to capture the Avatar, we will discuss it later. Perhaps I can help you." Then the hand left Zuko's shoulder entirely, making him a little nervous. He could feel the warmth of Iroh's body only a few feet from him, but it was not as reassuring as his hand. In this darkness, he desperately wanted physical contact. He wanted to be absolutely sure that Iroh was there.

"For now," Iroh said. "You must regain your strength. You were badly burned in the Agni Kai, nephew. It could be weeks before you are able to get out of bed."

Zuko did not like the sound of that. "I'll get up tomorrow." No need to pointlessly attempt to feel his way around in the middle of a ridiculously black night. He could be patient. He was a prince, after all.

Iroh chuckled quietly. He had stepped a few more feet away from Zuko, apparently, since the noise was from a bit farther away. Zuko wondered how he had missed the footsteps.

"I'll get you some water, Zuko," Iroh finally said. "And then, before we talk anymore, perhaps you should take a nap. You sound tired and your eye isn't focusing properly. Clearly you are still not well."

Zuko was about to protest that he was perfectly fine (a lie, his entire body still ached and his face still throbbed) when he noticed something peculiar.

Iroh had mentioned…that his eye wasn't focusing properly?

But…how on Earth could Iroh tell if his eye was focusing? It was far too dark to see anyone's eyes. Moreover, why did it matter if his eyes focused in this darkness?

He felt confused.

He had not asked Iroh about the mysterious darkness, the darkness that had even swallowed up the light from the small flames he had created without even a glimmer. The subject of his banishment had seemed more important, and thinking too much about the darkness hurt his head. The darkness…it didn't feel safe to mention it. But he was so confused.

Iroh took a step away again. This time Zuko heard it. "Uncle," he said, to make the man stop. He did not want to be alone. And besides, he still had questions to ask.

So Iroh stopped. "What is it, nephew? Are you all right?"

"…It's nothing."

"Very well then." Iroh didn't sound convinced, but Zuko wasn't going to make an argument out of it. "I'll be right back."

Zuko heard the door close.

He was alone in the darkness again. No reason to be afraid, though. Uncle would be coming back in just a minute with water. Water would certainly be appreciated, what with his throat as dry as it was just now.

He lay still, listening to the noises outside the door, and waited.

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Author's Note: I really need reviews for this, guys. Writers' block is hitting me hard, and my motivation level is extremely low, but I really want to write this story, so I'm pushing through it. With the power of youth!

(Shakes herself) Sorry,I fall into Rock Lee mode sometimes. But yeah, reviews are appreciated (aren't they always?). Feedback, suggestions for plot, predictions, suggestions for improvement, compliments...all are welcome.

And can you tell what's going on with Zuko yet?


	2. Chapter 2

It felt like a forever before Iroh came back, but logically Zuko was sure it was just a few minutes. It did not take long to get water, after all, not even on a ship, and his uncle would always hurry back to his side. It had been that way ever since his mother died- Iroh had always been the person in his life to be there when Zuko had no other support, to comfort him when he cried and sit by his bed when he was sick. Though he had never been this sick before.

Iroh was always reassuring and comforting, and now was no exception. He carefully placed the glass of water in Zuko's hand and did not remark on how long it took Zuko to grasp it, clumsily groping in the dark.

The water was good. Zuko had learned how delicious water could be years ago in his firebending training, an activity which could dehydrate him like nothing else. Except, apparently, having his face get blasted by fire and being in a fever for days on end, because honestly, he had never been thirstier than this in his life. He almost sucked the water into his mouth rather than pouring it, and in his haste he must have spilled some of it, for he felt some water drip onto his shirt. He probably spilled more, but it did not seep through the blanket.

His throat still hurt, but it would probably be fine in a minute or two. The rest of his body still hurt, too, but that would be remedied in a couple of days.

His uncle's voice cut through the darkness again. Agni, he had almost forgotten the man was there. "You certainly drank that fast, nephew. Should I get you some more?"

Zuko did not feel like waiting again, so he grunted, "No."

"Ah, well," Iroh said. "Is your throat feeling any better?"

"Yes."

"I will bring you some tea later, nephew. It is more soothing on your throat than mere water, and it tastes better at the same time. Maybe some broth too," Iroh mused. "Do you feel up to eating?"

"No."

Iroh sighed. He was probably wearying of Zuko's monosyllabic answers, but Zuko did not have much to say. Talking about important things like his new quest to capture the Avatar and how he would manage it would come later. Talking about trivial things did not seem worth the breath.

So his uncle gave up the conversation too, for a few minutes anyways, and sat on the edge of Zuko's bed again. Then he spoke again, lightly, less concerned than before. "It is certainly getting dark, nephew. It must be nearing evening."

"What?" Zuko was puzzled. Dark? It could get no darker than it already was. (Which was still a mystery he did not particularly want to get into right now.)

"I said it's getting dark, nephew," Iroh said a bit more loudly. So apparently Zuko had heard correctly, anyways. "Too shadowy in here to see very well. Would you like me to light a lamp?"

"Yes," Zuko said immediately, because after all this darkness there was nothing he would have liked better.

Iroh chuckled. "If the dark was bothering you, why didn't you mention it?"

It was a pretty good question, but Zuko, once again, did not want to think about that right now. He gritted his teeth. "Just light the lamp, uncle."

He could hear his uncle moving in the darkness, the swish of his long, no doubt formal yet comfortable robes as he stood up. The quiet sound of his feet padding on the floor as he moved across the room. Zuko had no idea how his rather fat uncle managed to walk so quietly and gracefully, particularly on a ship, but apparently he was managing as well as always. The sound of his uncle's hand on the lamp, and then the fizz of a flame coming to life as Iroh firebent it into existence.

Wait. A flame coming to life?

Shouldn't he be seeing the light by now?

Even as he thought about it, Iroh said, "There. That makes the room a bit brighter, doesn't it?"

But it didn't.

The room was still perfectly and completely dark. And, and he could feel the flame even. From across the room he could feel its meager warmth and energy in the way of the well trained firebender he was, always aware of heat and particularly of fire. He could feel the heat emanating from the lamp, and smell bare wisps of smoke, and yet could see no light at all.

But his uncle could see the light. Apparently.

His uncle, who had even mentioned earlier, in the complete darkness, that he could tell that it was getting near evening by the dimming light (when there was no light in the first place!) and could find his way to the lamp perfectly well. His uncle, who had never faltered in walking around the room the way one would when walking in complete darkness. His uncle, who had mentioned such a small detail as the unfocused quality of his eyes.

His uncle could see just fine in here. His uncle did not see any darkness, at least not beyond a few shadows caused by the coming of evening.

No darkness.

And slowly, mercilessly, it came to Zuko's mind that there truly was no darkness. It was not the room that lacked light. It was he who lacked the ability to see it.

He was blind.

It was surprising how easy it was to accept the idea, which should have been unacceptable. He was blind. The world had just shifted, maybe even flipped, on its axis, but that was no big deal. After all, his world hadn't stopped shifting ever since he'd woken up. He was banished, he had a new quest, he had to find the Avatar, his father thought he was weak, his father was going to give him a second chance, his father wanted to punish him, half of his face had been mercilessly blasted with fire, half of his face was probably hopelessly scarred by said blast of fire, and he was blind.

Really, why shouldn't he blind?

For that matter, why shouldn't he be dead?

His uncle's voice came out of the darkness (no darkness, Zuko, just blindness: there was a difference), "Nephew?"

"Yes, uncle?" he murmured.

"I don't think you heard me. Does that make the room bright enough for you?"

Iroh was so thoughtful. Clueless, of course, but thoughtful. Zuko smiled absently. "Yes, everything's clearer now. Thank you."

And then the sound came again, the sound of his uncle moving through the darkness of a well-lit room. "Good." His voice was soft, still worried. "Do you feel hungry enough for broth now?"

"Yes. Could you get some?" Lies, of course. Zuko had never felt less like eating, but he needed to be alone right now, and this was one way to get Iroh out of the room.

Iroh talked a bit more but Zuko wasn't really paying attention. He did listen to Iroh's footsteps to the door, and the door shutting behind him.

Was he really alone?

Yes, of course he was. Iroh's body generated the kind of heat only a firebender's could, and there was no such heat in the room right now. He would have sensed it. And he could hear nothing of the older man, not even breathing. He was alone.

Good.

Zuko reached up to touch his face again, as he had when he first woke up. He wanted to touch his eye, his blind eye, but instinctively he shut it before his hand could get there, and instead he ended up touching the eyelid. He paused, feeling the fragile fold of skin under his fingers. No difference there. The change had taken place in the eye beneath the eyelid, but even if he could feel it, he doubted it would feel any different.

His eyelid was smooth. Doubtless the skin underneath the bandage over his other eye would be somewhat different, rough and raw from the flame his father had sent at it.

His hand trembled slightly where it still sat, touching his face, and he placed it back in his lap. His father had punished him because he had been disrespectful and weak. How ironic that his method had ended up blinding Zuko and making him even weaker, even more unworthy to be the firelord's son.

His father did not know it yet, that Zuko was blind. Zuko swallowed. He would certainly be disappointed when he heard. Probably he would give up on Zuko entirely. After all, why would he give a useless blind boy a chance to redeem himself, even through such an impossible task as capturing the Avatar? Zuko's father loved him, but if Zuko was accepted back in the Fire Nation and at court, then he would be expected to inherit the position of firelord, and it would be unacceptable for a firelord to be blind. After all, a firelord had to be strong enough for his people to look up to him, strong enough to protect his people. Zuko could never be any of these things. If he returned to his father's side blind, he would be seen as weak, practically a laughingstock. A blind prince. That was bad enough even without him becoming firelord.

In his lap, his hand clenched into a fist.

If Ozai knew that Zuko had been blinded…then this banishment might become permanent and irrevocable. After all, a blind son would be useless to him. Why would he ever want Zuko back with such a handicap?

But Zuko did want to go back. He had to go back. Outside of the Fire Nation, there was no reason for him to live. His entire life was in the Fire Nation. Mai was in the Fire Nation. He knew that if he just gave up like this, she at least would never forgive him.

So then. He had to return to the Fire Nation. And if his father knew he was blind, he was sure he would never be allowed to return.

So…his father could not know of his blindness.

Not until he had already been accepted back, and it was too late to cast him out again.

The thought of keeping such information from his father made him feel sick (well, sicker than he already felt) but already he began to realize how easy it could be. Ozai was miles away now. Zuko would not even be in the Fire Nation until he had already redeemed himself. He would have no chance to tell his father. So it would not really be deceit, would it?

Only.

His father was the firelord.

If he did not hear the news of Zuko's blindness from Zuko himself, that did not necessarily mean he would not hear of it all the same. As the ruler of the Fire Nation, he had spies, well, everywhere. And then there was even the crew of this ship. Seeing as it belonged to his uncle, the crew was most likely composed of Fire Nation soldiers. And even if Fire Nation soldiers were not spies, they still served the firelord, and if Ozai asked them what his son was up to, or even just news about the voyage in general and they knew he was blind, then…

Zuko's head was spinning.

And if not by orders, by rumor! Soldiers, even those who would be willing to keep his blindness a secret from the firelord, still confided in friends and, of course, chattered like parrots in pubs. If even his own crew knew he was blind, then his father would know within days. Particularly since he had Azula on his side, and Azula usually knew everything. (Though Zuko had no idea how. She was only eleven!)

So if anyone at all knew about his blindness, then the news would probably travel to Ozai. And Ozai couldn't know. So…no one could know.

The logic made sense. Of course, how he was going to hide his blindness from pretty much everybody, he had no idea. Perhaps Iroh could help.

Should he tell Iroh?

Well. The man was perceptive. Most likely there would be no way to hide it from him. He was only fooled now because he thought Zuko's disorientation was because of his (almost gone) fever. In a few days when the fever was gone that excuse would no longer be handy, and Zuko doubted he could hide this from his uncle even that long.

For better or for worse, Iroh was going to know that Zuko was blind. Zuko would just have to make the best of it. So, how exactly was he going to break the bad news?

Better to do it bluntly. After all, Iroh had been blunt when he told Zuko he had been banished. It had worked for his uncle, so it would probably work for him.

And anyways, Zuko had never been good at being subtle. Azula reminded him of that all the time. (That was probably the one good thing about his banishment-he wouldn't have to listen to Azula's prattle for a while.)

Iroh came back more quickly this time, though maybe it only felt that way to Zuko because he had been thinking instead of staring into darkness waiting for his uncle's return. This time, he listened to his uncle's footsteps more carefully than ever. He was going to have to learn to know where people were by their footsteps, most likely, since he would no longer be able to see them. Best to get as much practice as possible.

He took the bowl of broth his uncle offered awkwardly. He could vaguely sense its position, since he could sense the heat of the broth within. He carefully sipped a little of the broth before setting it down in his lap and turning his face towards where he was more or less certain his uncle was sitting at the end of his bed.

"Uncle, I'm blind."

There was a long moment of silence.

Then Iroh said, in a confused tone, "Maybe you were a little foolish to speak out in a council meeting without considering the consequences, but you weren't exactly blind, Zuko, just a little rash. You were trying to do the right thing after all, and in the end perhaps you should have known that your father would not take such rebellion lightly, but…"

"Uncle," Zuko interrupted. "No, stop, that's not what I mean. I'm blind."

There was another long pause.

"Um, nephew," Iroh said. "I'm not sure I follow you."

Zuko gritted his teeth. He slowly raised a hand and pointed a finger at his eye. Well, where he was pretty sure his eye was. But it was his face; he wouldn't have been able to tell that even if he were able to see, after all.

"My eye can't see," he said slowly, to make sure Iroh understood. "Everything is dark. I am blind."

And then there was an even longer pause.

Silence, there was not. Zuko could hear Iroh taking a deep breath, and then releasing it, and taking another deep breath, and then releasing that one.

He continued like that for a while, taking deep breaths and letting them out, but the breaths started getting shorter and louder, and after a while Zuko realized that they had turned into sobs.

He should probably do something about that.

"Uncle?" he said hesitantly.

He heard Iroh struggling to get his breath under control before he responded. "Yes, nephew?"

His voice was still choked up. Zuko frowned. "I'm blind, not deaf. I can hear you…" He trailed off, and cleared his throat. "Uncle, it's okay."

He stretched out his hand to touch his uncle, offer some comfort (though really, Zuko wasn't even completely sure why he was so upset), but his uncle, sitting on the far end of the bed, was too far away for him to reach. It was all right. Iroh covered the distance that Zuko couldn't. He grabbed Zuko's hand with both of his own, so tightly it hurt. (Though pretty much everything hurt right now, so maybe he wasn't grabbing so hard after all…? No. That was a pretty firm grip.)

And then his uncle's hands let go. There was a moment of confusion, a feeling of loss, before Zuko found his entire body enveloped in a hug just as desperate as the hand hold a few seconds ago.

Awkwardly, he placed his arms around his uncle's warm body.

"Zuko," Iroh whispered. He still sounded a little teary, but under control. "It's…it's going to be okay. Don't worry, nephew."

Zuko smiled. His uncle could probably see it, the smile spreading across his face right now. He wondered what it looked like. "I said that already, uncle. It's going to be fine." It was impossible for him to think otherwise. "But I might need some help."

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AN: Thanks for the reviews guys! I really appreciate the feedback. If I didn't respond to one, well...I'm kind of a procrastinator, but I'm getting around to it. Or maybe you're a guest and I just can't.

More reviews would also be nice.

Moving on, I have to warn you that these two chapters give a slightly inaccurate sense of what this story is going to be like. The angst is probably going to go down after this. Like, a lot. I just figured it's pretty angsty finding out you're blind...particularly if you have the whole "my-father-scarred-my-face-and-banished-me" thing going on beforehand.

See y'all next chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Someone reminded me the other day of a most excellent story that was part of what inspired me to write this one. It is called Scarlet and Black, written by Vathara. It's short but pretty cool, so if you like blind!Zuko stories I suggest you take a look at it.

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Iroh kept on talking about problems. He kept on talking about the difficulty of hiding things from the crew. Zuko's eyes were unfocused, he said. And he moved like someone in the dark. They wouldn't be able to keep Zuko in bed sick much longer before one of the men would get suspicious, he said. And for some reason he seemed to think that Zuko actually intended to stay in bed to hide his blindness.

Zuko had no such intentions. He suspected that Iroh was just trying to discourage him from hunting down the Avatar. For some reason, his uncle seemed to think it was a false hope, a goal that Zuko would never be able to achieve. Of course it wasn't. Zuko's father would never have given Zuko false hope; he was always one for harsh truth.

Zuko's blindness would certainly make things more difficult, but he was confident that he could manage to not only hide it but capture the Avatar while still blind. It was a peculiar kind of confidence. It wasn't that he thought he was a good enough firebender to defeat a hundred year old master of all types of bending, and it wasn't that he was really sure of just how he was going to fight despite his blindness (though he had a few ideas). It was that he had to capture the Avatar in order to regain his honor. And what he had to do, he would. So perhaps it was not confidence as much as it was resolve. Indeed, perhaps Zuko would never capture the Avatar, but in that case he would be dead and unable to mourn his inability, since he was resolved to either achieve his goal or die in the attempt.

As for hiding his blindness, well. He had at least half of an idea of how to do that.

"Are my eyes really that unfocused?" he asked his uncle three days after waking up on the ship.

A short pause. Pauses had never mattered to Zuko when he was able to read people's expressions. As it was, he did not know whether his uncle was wincing at the question, smiling in amusement, or merely taking a moment to consider the matter.

Eventually he answered, "They really are. I do not believe anyone could see your eyes as they are and believe that you are neither blind nor sick. Your sickness hid it from me, but you will be well soon, nephew. There will be no excuse for your eyes being unable to focus."

For a moment Zuko concentrated very hard, attempting to glare the way he used to (already it was past tense!) when he had his vision and was particularly annoyed by something. "That any better?"

"What exactly are you trying to do, nephew?"

"I'm trying to focus my eyes. I'm trying to glare!" Zuko exclaimed. "Is it any better?"

Another pause. Zuko used to like silence, but he was beginning to hate it. Then, his uncle's voice again. "No."

Zuko gritted his teeth. "Fine then."

"You'll agree to stay in this room until I can make arrangements for staying in the Earth Kingdom?" Iroh asked hopefully. In addition to trying to discourage Zuko, he had also been trying to put forward a plan of staying in privacy in the Earth Kingdom until they could figure out a way to cancel Zuko's banishment without capturing the Avatar. Zuko did not like this plan. Maybe it involved returning to the Fire Nation, but it would never return his honor. He could only regain that by completing the task his father had set for him.

"No," he said. "I'm not going to hide, uncle. Just because I have to trick people into thinking I can see does not mean I am going to hide away from them entirely!"

Iroh let out a long, weary sigh and shifted in his seated position on Zuko's bed (which recently felt more like a prison). "Then how do you plan to trick them into thinking you can see?"

"Mask," Zuko said.

And another pause.

"I can get a mask to cover my entire face," Zuko explained quickly. Enough of awkward silences. "If we get one with eye slits thin enough to hide my eyes from view or with some kind of a filter, no one will be able to see my eyes and no one will know that I'm not actually looking at anything. As long as I direct my head towards whatever I'm supposed to be looking at, it should be fine."

"Ah," said Iroh. "Well. And what will your excuse be for wearing a mask all the time? Won't the crew find that a little strange?"

Zuko swallowed. He was swallowing his pride, really. He didn't like this part.

"It's not strange to want to hide a scar."

Iroh said nothing. Zuko was beginning to realize just how often, when they were talking, Iroh really did say nothing, just nodded and let Zuko talk. Usually it was reassuring. Now he thought it might become a nightmare.

"It is going to leave a scar, right?" he said. "My eye. It got burned really badly. And if it doesn't leave a scar, we could always lie and say it did."

"It's going to leave a scar," Iroh said gravely. His hand touched Zuko on the shoulder and lightly squeezed. "You have not seen how bad it is yet."

Yet? Zuko almost wanted to laugh. They were still living in a dream, thinking of the short term problems involved with his blindness, how to hide it, how to capture the Avatar. But Zuko would never be able to see. If the eye ended up with a scar, it wouldn't matter; he still wouldn't see it. Iroh still wasn't really thinking long term. But then, neither was Zuko. They could sort out things like that, the long term implications of his injury, after he had regained his honor.

He nodded. "Good. I don't want to lie more than I have to." It was funny. Him saying that the scar he would definitely have when his eye healed…was good. But it was. It was an excellent excuse to wear a mask, and that was what Zuko currently needed.

Iroh did not really like the idea of his nephew always covering his face, apparently. He tried to argue the matter for a while. Eventually, Zuko won out (partially through sheer stubbornness) and Iroh agreed to stop at a nearby port the next day and buy Zuko a mask to cover his full face. Zuko sighed in relief. Things would be very hard if Iroh continued to resist his decisions. As soon as he knew how to hide his blindness without assistance things would get easier, but in the meantime he had very little control over his own life or plans. He could barely walk five paces from his bed as it was because of his weakness, the movement of the ship and the fact that he kept on bumping into some table. This trapped him in his bedroom, unable to maneuver or fetch anything for himself. And he couldn't communicate with the crew, even from his own bed, until he had the mask. It was a complete nuisance.

And so he was very happy when the boat made anchor in port the next day, and Iroh set out to get Zuko a mask.

Only it sort of left Zuko alone and unable to leave his room, and Zuko did not like being alone in the (not) dark. It was so very boring.

So about an hour after Iroh left Zuko, telling him he was off to buy a mask, Zuko decided that it was about time he had a look around his room. Figuratively, anyways. It was going to be more of a stroll or a feel around his room, but the point was that he had no idea what existed in the room besides the door, his bed, and a small bedside table that he had just about trained himself not to bump into. It was about time that he figured out exactly what else this room contained. And if there really was nothing it but a bed and a table, well, he would find that out.

He started by feeling the wall behind his headboard. He had noticed a couple times when he had touched it absently earlier that there was a tapestry there. Now he felt it more carefully, picking up on the texture. It was smooth but not so smooth that he couldn't feel the individual threads, a tapestry indeed and not some random cloth. There had to be some kind of a design on it. He traced with his fingers the borders where thread type changed completely and a bump seemed to signify the difference. There was a large shape, rising up and down and up and down, and in and around and up and down and…oh.

It was a Fire Nation emblem. The tapestry above his headboard was not a tapestry after all, but a Fire Nation flag.

Zuko's first thought was that it was rather unoriginal and predictable. But on second thought, he felt pleased. He was a prince of the Fire Nation even if he was banished, and it was only fitting that his bedroom be decorated with his country's flag. In fact, it would almost have been disappointing if there wasn't one.

His hand lingered on the fabric for a moment before moving onto the wooden wall it was hanging on. Feeling the wall for support and in order to keep his bearings, he lowered his feet to the ground and stood beside his bed. He pretty much had his sea legs by now, though he was still a little shaky.

Keeping one hand on the wall, he stretched the other hand out in front of him so he would not bump into anything and started walking forward. The bedside table was on the other side of his bed, so this area was a complete mystery to him.

He hated himself for it, but he couldn't help but be cautious, taking slow steps, wary of tripping on something or kicking something by accident. His hand twitched in front of him, waiting to touch something. And then it did. Another wall.

Zuko walked a few more steps and he was standing in the corner of his room to the top right of his bed. He added the corner to a mostly barren mental map he had been trying to make of the place and of the ship in general. Not a lot of information there.

Turning parallel to the new wall, which should be parallel to his bed, he kept on slowly walking, feeling in front of him and along the wall as he went.

His hand on the wall came across something first this time. Something that was not wooden, even. It was small, resting on some small metal pegs on the wall, and it was made of metal but rounded off. He slid his hand further across it. It was long and mostly rounded, but the metal part only went on for a couple inches. Past there it was softer, possibly made of leather. The metal came back a couple times down the length of the…object, but only in narrow rings around it. Then, at what was apparently the top of the item, the metal encrusted the end. This end had an opening, though the opening was narrow. Zuko fingered the opening for a few moments before understanding.

Oh. A sheath.

He mentally cursed. If he had been able to see he could have recognized a sheath in a second, no, in a millisecond. And even without his sight he should have been able to recognize a sheath a bit faster than that, after the training he had received in swordsmanship. He had to stop being so disoriented and learn how to rely on senses other than sight.

The sheath was a bit wider than normal, and Zuko wondered why. More importantly, if the sheath was sitting there on the wall, where was the sword that should have gone in it? Was it mounted above the sheath? Frowning, Zuko slid his hand up the wall again.

When his middle finger suddenly came in contact with something sharp, he yelped. Automatically, he put his hand to his mouth and licked at the finger. Yes. Blood. His uncle had been gone for less than an hour and he had already hurt himself. Well, at least the cut wasn't deep. Just deep enough to draw blood and be a nuisance until it healed.

Zuko felt his mouth twist into a scowl. Why did Iroh leave a sword hanging on his wall anyways? Shouldn't he have taken it down after he found out Zuko was blind? Then Zuko wouldn't have had to discover it by slicing his finger open. Then again, that probably would have annoyed him even more than the sword being left where it was. Though Zuko was blind, he wasn't helpless. He couldn't allow himself to be helpless.

He put his hand up again, more slowly and carefully this time and once again found the edge of the sword. He touched it gingerly and then moved his hand so that rather than pressing his fingertip against the cutting edge he was caressing the flat. It was a bit wide, this sword. Zuko suspected it was a little unbalanced.

He found the hilt of the sword easily, and barely resisted the temptation to just pick it off the wall and swing it around a bit-with the luck he'd been having, he'd cut his hand off, or maybe a whole arm. Instead, he continued inching his hand up the sword, trying to find the point. Halfway there, there was something pricking his finger again, but he stopped his hand in time to avoid bleeding this time.

Another edge?

Frowning, Zuko felt around the edge to discover the flat of another sword, crossed over the first. Ah. That would explain its peculiar width and balance. It was a dual dao sword, one of a pair of broadswords that would balance each other out. Zuko knew how to wield dual dao swords; it had been part of his swordsmanship training that he had been more interested in than most. Most people focused on one sword techniques and training, but Zuko liked the balance of having two. He had worked on sword forms almost as much as on his firebending forms, and at the cost of some firebending practice and skill had gotten to the point where he could do dual dao sword forms with his eyes closed.

But could he do them on a ship, blind?

Well, there was only one way to find out. And maybe it would end with him accidentally chopping his arm off, but oh well. Stuff like that happened.

Gently, he lifted the two swords from the wall, one in each hand. He was weak from his sickness, but not so weak that he couldn't hold dual dao swords. As soon as he lifted them, they felt like extensions to his arms. The forms…they started with the swords connected, if these two had a place where they could connect and become one sword…

They did.

Zuko fitted the swords together and, with the typical bow to begin any form, began his practice. He kept both hands on the hilt of the sword, since it was heavy enough to require that much strength. There were stabs, sweeping motions, blocks…Eventually the swords came apart, and the form became more complicated. He had to keep track of where both swords were pointing, and the blocks became more complicated as well.

Thank goodness the ship was anchored in port, keeping the swaying under Zuko's feet to a minimum. Otherwise Zuko was afraid he might indeed have accidentally impaled himself.

The form went as well as could be expected, only Zuko could not do the steps associated with the arm motions because he did not want to walk into or stab a wall. So he could only do the parts where he waved the sword, but it was still more exercise than he'd had in days. The sweat on his body when he finally placed the swords back on the wall felt familiar and right.

Iroh would probably be annoyed if he knew. He kept on wanting Zuko to rest, take it easy. It was all right; Zuko just wouldn't tell him. He slid into bed more easily than he'd gotten out of it to wait for Iroh and in a few minutes he was already asleep.

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AN:Warning-it could be a month or so before I post again. I seem to have gotten myself involved in NaNoWriMo, which starts in a couple days, so I am not going to have enough time/writing energy to write fanfiction for a while. I mean, I'll update when I can, but don't expect that to be November.

To reviewers: Thanks to all of you! I have never gotten this many reviews for the first couple of chapters of a story, and it makes me very happy! I responded to most of you, but to those I couldn't respond to, read below...

Veloren: I hope it means Daredevil!Zuko. We'll see if he can pull it off. As for skipping ahead to canon, it will probably happen eventually, but not very soon.

Speedy Hobbit: I think the blindness is Zuko's only problem currently, other than the obvious banishment issues.

Nameless guests: Thanks for the compliments and I update as much as my life allows.

Countdown: Yeah, writing without including visuals is probably the most difficult and fun part of writing this story. Glad you're reading!


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